The Good Left Undone
by HugglesXKitten
Summary: Sango is the vocalist for a popular band. Miroku is her manager and sort of boyfriend, who is polyamourous in the form of one night stands. One day Sango's view on this changes.   Disclaimer: I obviously don't own InuYasha.Pairing: MirSan. An AU Story.
1. A View of the Past

**Author's Note: **Hello everybody! So this whole story is based off of a verse of the _The Good Left Undone_ by Rise Against(hence the title). Each chapter is related to another song. This chapter is entirely _The Good Left Undone_. I just wanted to warn you that this is a different take on Miroku and Sango. I've been taking a Women & Gender Studies course in school and wanted to blur the lines of both heteronormativity and monogomous relationships. (Usually people seem to think that anything else could not be satisfying.) Just so you know, some of this will change in the end.

The verse in Question:

_All because of you I believe in angels_  
><em>Not the kind with wings no, not the kind with halos<em>  
><em>The kind that bring you home<em>  
><em>When home becomes a strange place<em>  
><em>I'll follow your voice, all you have to do is shout it out<em>

**Posted: **March. 22, 2012

* * *

><p>"Hey Miroku, wake up." His angel's voice was in his ear. When he opened his tired eyes, her pretty face was only inches from his own. "Ah! Good morning sleepyhead." She tucked her long brown hair behind her ear before sitting back, allowing him to sit up.<p>

Miroku yawned and stretched, watching Sango as she stood up. She walked across the hotel. Nothing covered her body but a translucent white sheet. He could feel himself react, seeing the silhouette of her beautiful body moving.

"What time is it?" He asked. His voice was husky with sleep. Sango opened he door to the small bathroom.

"About noon. I forgot to set the alarm."

"I suppose it's a good thing that you don't have anywhere to be, then?"

"Hmm." Before she stepped into the bathroom, Sango let the sheet fall in piles at her feet. Miroku caught a generous glimpse of flesh, and tattoo, before the bathroom door shut. He resisted the temptation to follow her. If memory served, the door would be locked.

In the four years or so that they'd been in this _relationship_, they had never shared a shower. It wasn't for the lack of him trying, it was that Sango never acquiesced. No matter what he proposed, she wouldn't have any of it. It had ceased to bother him.

* * *

><p><em>5 years ago<em>

He was out of it. This trip surprised even himself. Trip? It was more like an escape. Anything that got him out from under the nose of his over-bearing mother, and away from his asshole of a father could be dubbed as such. This particular day, he pulled across the U.S. border and into Canada, flashing his passport and a smile at the blonde female officer, who proceeded to give him a hard time.

Leaving the country was a relatively new thing for him. His wander-lust and aversion to San Francisco, or home as it was, had grown exponentially over time. At first he'd crossed the state lines, then it wasn't enough. After a short time he'd been through all of the states at least once. Still, it hadn't satisfied him.

So, here he was on his first trip out of the United States. He'd chosen Canada as his destination, mainly because it was the last place that his parents would expect him to go. They were likely already tracking his credit cards, their own way of 'looking out for him'. He'd expected as much, and had taken out much of his savings, converting most of it to Canadian dollars before he even left San Francisco, to avoid their critical eyes.

Now, he was pulling into Winnipeg, a city which he'd never expected to see. His first thought was about how many trees there were. His second thought was about his need to find a gas station. His trusty Sting Ray's tank was practically empty. Soon enough, he came up to one and pulled into it.

"I forgot that they do this in liters," he murmured to himself. He shifted into park and removed the key from the ignition. "Fill with regular, please," he instructed the attendant, who nodded. He walked into the little building and wandered around until he heard the cashier call, "pump three?"

"That's me," he said, walking up to the counter.

"Co-op number?"

"Excuse me? Oh- I don't have one." The bored-looking cashier nodded and pushed a couple buttons on the cash register. She added on the price of the map of Winnipeg in his hand, and rattling of the price, accepted his money with an upturned palm.

Following the map, he came up to his hotel. He had chosen this hotel, which was not the best in the city for that fact in itself. Still, the Delta was comfortable indeed. He'd hoped so when he'd called to book his room for the week. The air-conditioning was refreshing, and the staff was friendly, personable, and polite. He walked up to the girl who was working behind the counter of a little convenience store in the building. She had darker hair than his own, and smiled in a welcoming way at him. With a bat of her long lashes, she responded to his flirting, which came so naturally to him.

"There's a band playing at The Kings Head Pub tonight. I was planning to go, if you wanted to join me. It's not that far from here" She invited.

"That sounds like a proposition that I would be a fool to say no to," he replied, flashing his lady-killing smile, She giggled, and wrote the address on a sticky-note, handing it to him.

"See you at nine?"

"You bet, gorgeous."

When he arrived at The Kings Head, which was a nice little pub on King Street, he paid the thin redhead at the door with a crisp green twenty. She handed him back a blue fiver, and stamped his hand with a black inked felt stamp. The atmosphere was relaxing, and he could see a few interesting prospects lady-wise. First things first.

He walked up to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila and a rye and coke. He took the shot, and one more before leaving the bar. He caught sight of Takara, the girl from the Delta. She was wearing a tank-top, and short shorts. He joined her at her table.

They sat and talked for about an hour, her drinking two blue lagoons, and him polishing off three more tequila shots and five drinks. Sadly, his tolerance wouldn't allow him to feel it yet. He would have to drink more to be consumed by the numbing sensation, which he did. Takara suggested that they go upstairs and see the band, which he could hear slightly from their seat. She also told him that there were couches on the second floor. He agreed to the move, buying them each another drink before heading up the narrow stairs at a leisurely pace.

Miroku was amused to find that when they arrived upstairs, a new song had started. Though all of the songs that the band played up until then had been original songs, this one was a sped up rock cover of _If You're Going To San Francisco_ by Scotty McKenzie. His eyes passed the crowd and rested on the band, as Takara took him by the hand and led him to a couch, pulling him down to sit next to her.

There were four people on the stage. In the back was an energetic and pretty female drummer. Her long black hair was pulled back and tied in two thick braids. She wore a black t-shirt with a big green smiley face on it.

Next to her stood a guy with silver hair, which had to be died, pulled back into a ponytail. A bright red bass hung from a strap and almost blended into his bright red t-shirt. His jeans were tight, and he was scowling slightly, trying to stay out of the way of the guitarist in front of him.

"The guitarist had a smug look on his face. His brown hiar was to his shoulders and was pulled back with a ratty brown headband. His Van Halen t-shirt looked old and well-worn, while his jeans looked brand new.

As mismatched and odd as the group looked, Miroku's eyes rested on the vocalist and after, they stuck there. Her long chestnut hair was in a high ponytail. Her straight bangs hung almost to her eyes. Even with some distance and a crowd between them, he could see streaks of pink above her eyes. While she was less his type than the vivacious and buxom raven-haired lass who was practically seated in his lap and whispering in his ear, she was quite the catch. She wore black skinny jeans and a Veronica Lodge shirt. Fro the first time Miroku found her most appealing feature not to be her figure, but her voice. That floating, sweet sound that was a cross between Bonnie Tyler's belting 80's voice and Zooey Deschanel's modern crooning.

"I'll be right back," he just managed to hear Takara say as the band stopped for a quiet break.

"Okay." When she left, he stood and made his way to the stage. Not bothering with personal space rules, he tapped the vocalist on the shoulder. As if used to it, she turned around slowly, crossing her arms in the same movement.

"Yes?" He looked her over up close. Her figure, as it turned out, was top notch. His eyes stopped on hers, which were brown and full of amusement.

"Do you have an agent?" The question confused them both, but Mirkou hid his reaction to his own words. He'd had a degree in business thrust upon him by his father, but nothing that was very relevant to this conversation. Still, he continued, "I would willingly represent you." He realized that his words weren't a lie.

"Excuse me?" She looked disbelieving and tilted her head. Her ponytail swished behind her and his eyes followed it. A look of realization passed over her face. "You're drunk."

"Barely," his tone was dry, "but I'm serious." He was. He didn't have any idea where the idea had come from, but he'd use his connections to make it work. Being born into money had it's advantages. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"It's definitely not sweetheart." Takara was forgotten as they spoke.

That was how it started. He used his connections to get a record deal. The band members Sango Kikaku, InuYasha Saiga, Koga Okami, and Kagome Higurashi became popular, and fast. After this rise to fame, he admitted his fib. They all laughed. His people- skills being what they were, and his not-no-useless business degree allowed him to perform in his role as 'agent' well.

As for his _relationship_ with Sango...

It had started one night when he had received a particularly horrid call from his father, who felt that he was just messing around. He was half-way through a bottle of 151, when she'd walked into the living room Koga's house- where they stayed during their times in Winnipeg.

"What's up?" She asked.

"None of your business, really," his voice slurred slightly when he spoke.

"Oh. Someone's bitchy tonight." She sat down next to him, and using the remote she flipped on the t.v. She turned on the menu, slowly going through the list of of things that were on. "Oh!" He looked up to see what she'd decided on. The show in question was _The Sound of Music_, and it seemed to have just started. He looked back into his glass, resuming drinking. Then it happened.

Sango began to sing along with the movie. Miroku paused and turned to her. She was as radiant and beautiful as she was whenever she sang, but this had never happened. She'd never sang just for him. He sat silently, gaping at her for the whole movie, his drink forgotten. At the end, he kissed her, and they went back to her room. That was that.

Somewhere along the way he'd begun to call her his angel. She just smiled at him. He wasn't sure why he'd said it, or what it meant for him. A year ago, he'd actually gone with her and she had gotten angel wings tattooed on her back. It was quite the impressive inside joke. The wings were folded and reached from her shoulder blades to her lower back. He'd often run his fingers over the delicate feathers, tracing them with his fingers.

He even found himself doing it sometimes when he was with other women. He pictured the feathers in his memory, and drew them out in invisible ink across fleshy canvasses of countless bed-mates. This was another mystery to him. Why would he do this? Maybe it was the sighs that escaped from their mouths as his fingers caressed their skin, painting an invisible mural.

Basically, he had built the the perfect life. He made enough money on his own now, to not need to rely on his parents. He hadn't spoken to, or seen them for over a year. He liked to keep it that way.

He had made great friends. He and InuYasha shared a liking for video games and horror movies. Kagome loved cooking as much as Miroku loved to eat. Koga, while cocky, had an impressive collection of literature, and was quite intelligent, with strong instincts, that had left Miroku surprised. Then there was Sango.

She was generous with her love and body in a way that he'd never experienced. On top of that, she let him do whatever her felt like. He was never scolded. She never gave him ultimatums, or scowled disapprovingly when he flirted with other women, and sometimes even did it herself. If he didn't come home at night, she wouldn't ask him much. They both knew what was going on, and Sango had accepted as it was, and even seemed to support him. To call her a free spirit would be to put it mildly. He had often been tempted to ask her if her parents were Hippies, and if they had raised her accordingly.

* * *

><p>The sound of water from the bathroom stopped, and within moments, Sango stepped o out. A towel was wrapped around her. Steam leaked from the bathroom.<p>

"Get up and shower. You smell like chicken soup," She pointed out, turning to pull some clothes out from her luggage bag. Miroku walked up and wrapped his arms around her her, nuzzling his face into her damp hair.

"How did I end up with such an amazing girl?"

"I've been wondering the same thing myself," she teased, not turning from her search. She pulled out a green corset and glanced over her shoulder. "You'd better shave too." Miroku sighed and released her, taking the hint. With one last glance at her near-naked body, he stepped into the bathroom himself.


	2. Habit That he Can't Quit

**Author's Note:** Sorry I took so long to update.

The song that inspired this chapter is "Time" by Cute is What we Aim for.

The three sections of lyrics that I found relevant: 1.) The roads are wrapped around your waist

They lead me place to place

I take trips from hip to hip

In fact, I've made a career of it

2.) Like the climate

You never know what weather you'll get

No denying you're the habit that I can't quit

It's only a matter of, mine.

3.) I still can't pick my favorite place

The contour of your lips,

They match your continents

And I still love the way that you taste

**Updated:** May. 10, 2012

* * *

><p>It had been just shy of a year since the band had returned to Winnipeg. Koga's mother welcomed them all with open arms and a kiss on each cheek. She, as always, had prepared their rooms the moment that she had heard the news of their return. When Miroku followed the others into the house, he could smell the delicious scent of his favorite fresh baked apple pie.<p>

The flight had been torture. He had been up all of the previous night, and the buxom flight attendant had flirted with him mercilessly. Oh his other side he had been _forced_ to watch Kagome and Sango cuddling with locked lips. No matter how many times he had seen it, it never became any less of a turn on.

Sango had told him the story of how that articular development in their relationship had come to pass. As she said, she and Kagome had been best friends since some time in elementary school. At some pivotal point in high school they had done what many girls do at that age; they had experimented and realized that they liked it. Occasionally, when the mood struck, they would repeat the successful experiment.

He, or anyone else for that matter, was never allowed to join in. As open and giving as Sango was, she put her foot down when it came to threesomes. He could dally, but she never wanted to see, or know the names of the women he saw.

His plan of attack, now that they were on the ground, was to call up one of his contacts and work out his frustrations. After pie, of course.

* * *

><p>The next morning Miroku strolled into the house with a spring in his step. Chouko was a former cheerleader and as flexible as Silly Putty. They'd stayed up half of the night, in all of the most morally compromising positions, then they had fallen asleep. It was almost noon by the time he opened the door the Koga's house.<p>

"Off womanizing again?" Koga, whose head was poking out from the open kitchen door, questioned.

"What are you making?" Miroku asked, ignoring the question as he stepped into the room himself. On the counter were various bowls of solid, liquid and liquid ingredients.

"Chocolate chip cookies. Kagome requested them."

"When are you going to stop carrying that torch you've got burning for her? She's smitten with InuYasha. It makes you look stupid." Koga snorted.

"I know. That doesn't mean that I shouldn't be nice to an old friend. Not all of us are ruled by our cocks."

"True that," said InuYasha as he joined them. He sat at the table, reaching for one of the bowls.

"Don't touch the chocolate chips!" Koga scolded.

"You two make a perfect couple," Miroku joked. He heard them groan as he left to find Sango. He spotted her curled up next to Kagome on the couch. Both were obviously still suffering from jet lag; they always did. He was still pretty tired himself, so he sought the bed that he shared with Sango and fell into it, covers and all. He didn't even remove his wrinkled clothing.

* * *

><p>"Well, look at you, all housewife-like," Miroku teased. When he had awakened, he'd wandered down the stairs to see Sango wearing a lacy white apron. and washing dishes. She raised her eyebrows a him and continued on with her chores.<p>

"Yeah right," amused sarcasm dripped from her voice. " I'm oh-so domestic." As he watched her scrub, he walked up behind her, sliding his arms around her abdomen and linking his hands together. She leaned back into his chest slightly, and hummed along to the radio. It was some oldies station that predominantly played _The Beatles_ and _Elvis_.

"Feeling better?" he asked, placing a kiss at her temple.

"Much, except that I was a little sick when I woke up. I had some water, and it went away, though."

"That's good." He trailed kissed from her ear to her neck, then from her neck to he bare shoulder that her tank-top could not conceal.

"How'd you sleep?" She asked quietly.

"Like a baby." His hands slid up her belly and felt her soft breasts through the thin fabric of her clothes. She stiffened with a sigh.

"Can't you keep it in your pants for a minute?" She asked, draining the water from the sink and drying her hands. He grinned at he when she turned around to face him.

"What can I say? You're hopelessly addictive. Especially when you look as appealing as you do right now. I can't help but imagine you in that sexy little apron and nothing else. " Sango smiled and gave him a kiss.

"Get a room," InuYasha suggested, passing by on his way out.

"I agree with him," Miroku said as seriously as he could manage. It earned his the mother of all eye rolls.

"Oh you do, do you? It just so happens that I was planning to go out. I guess that means that you can either join me, or you can stay and entertain Ms. Okami." Koga's mother, while an amazing woman and chef, was a mite too friendly. She could talk for hours on end, almost without pausing for a break.

"Where are we headed?"


	3. Hit the Road Jack

**Author's Note: **The other day I realized how long it has been since I updated this story, so here it is. We're about half-way through now.

The song for this chapter is _'Marie's the name of His Latest Flame'_ by _Elvis Presley. _Very loosely, of course.

_Though I smiled the tears inside were a-burnin  
>I wished him luck and then he said goodbye<br>He was gone but still his words kept returnin  
>What else was there for me to do but cry<em>

__**Updated:** November. 2, 2012

* * *

><p>"Check it again," Sango pleaded to her best friend. A sinking feeling flooded her stomach, and the edges of her vision blurred slightly. Kagome sighed.<p>

"Sango, I can read it as many times as you want, but the answer is not going to change. Let's face it, you're pregnant."

A small sob escaped the brunette's lips as she sank to her knees onto the bathroom floor. Her arms covered her face as she curled up into a fetal position and tears began to spill.

"It's not that bad," Kagome tried to soothe the crying girl. She wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. "You'll get through this. You've got me, Inu, Koga, and not to mention Miroku." Sango paled even further, and Kagome realized that the sentence she had intended to calm her, may have had the opposite effect.

"Shit, Miroku," Sango groaned. She looked like she may be sick, but she sat up and wiped her eyes. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." Kagome couldn't fathom why she would react in such a way.

"What is it?"

"Like _he _wants a baby."

"Like that matters now that it's happened. Besides, he loves you." Sango just laughed.

"Don't be a fool. That's not what Miroku is about." Suddenly the doorbell rang, cutting into the tense moment like a machete. The girls were the only two people in the house, since Koga's mother had gone to her Weight Watchers meeting. Sango straightened herself up and walked with dignity down the stairs. She opened the door and there stood a girl with long black hair and bright green eyes. Sango blinked.

"Hey," the girl said, waving a hand. "I'm Marie."

"And?" that tripped her up for a moment.

"Is Miroku there?" She asked, not sounding quite so sure of herself.

The only response Marie received was a door slammed in her face.

* * *

><p>Her name was Yuka, and her clothing was currently scattered on the floor next to her bed. Miroku breathed in the smell of sex and leaned his head back onto her feather pillows. It had been good sex, great sex even, but he still wasn't satisfied.<p>

She offered a drink, which he declined. He couldn't remember the last time that she had drank anything other than the occasional glass of wine with dinner, or cold beer on a hot summer day. Maybe success had filled the spot inside him where the need for intoxication used to be.

Now, rather than drowning himself in liquor and women, he just partook of as many 'ladies' as he pleased. Still, he returned to the one who kept her arms open to him, regardless of his vices.

If he had looked close enough, he may have started to see certain similarities in his acquaintances; chestnut hair for example, or a certain shade of deep chocolatey brown. He no longer chased the blondes that he had once taken to, and though he didn't notice, some may have.

* * *

><p>He was whistling a little tune when he walked up to the house. The door opened when he turned the handle, but his was in was blocked by boxes. His things.<p>

"Very funny, guys," he snorted. He picked up one box and started up the stairs. Since his arms were full, he tapped on the door with the ball of his foot. There was a rustling in the room beyond, and then the door swung open half way.

"Hey, angel. Do you mind holding the door open for me?" He asked.

"Why would I do that?" Her voice was ice, and her face stone. He suddenly noticed the puffiness of her eyes. He had hurt enough girls to realize that meant that she had likely been crying.

"What?" He really was confused. "Come on, stop joking. This is heavy."

"Who's joking?" She wondered, raising an eyebrow. "Who do you think brought all those boxes down there?" Miroku blinked.

"You? Why would you do that?"

"We had a deal," Sango replied plainly. "All I asked was not to see their faces, or know their names. You-being the dumbass that you are, let one of them get a hold of the address."

"Shit."

"Marie was looking for you." Her voice had taken on a nasty tone that he'd never heard from her mouth before, or expected that she was capable of using. Her face showed no emotion, but her voice told him that she was pissed off. She was never pissed off.

"Sango, I'm sorry," he offered. He meant it too, but she wasn't having any of it.

"You're fired, as well. Don't let the door slam on your way out."


	4. Half The Man

**Author's Note: ** Chapter four is my favorite chapter. I can barely tell you how much I wanted to write it. The song it is based off of is _'Alibis'_ by _Marianna's Trench. _The relevant part (which is the whole song minus two verses and with the repetitions of the chorus removed) goes:

_Most times it all comes out wrong_

_I don't know the words but I'll hum along_

_There's nothing familiar here anymore_

_To anyone or anything left to feel alive_

_And I still taste that sickness_

_And it makes me crazy without it at best_

_But I'm in the same place I used to be_

_But I'm trying harder not to be_

_So what am I? What am I? So what am I?_

_And all my, all my faces are alibis_

_This is not the man I hoped to be_

_And I'm just trying to stop the bleeding_

_I don't know how the words go_

_I just started not to say no_

_Don't want it, don't get it_

_I know you won't regret it_

_Don't surface, don't surface_

_And I feel so damned worthless_

_Another day is gone and all my faces are alibis_

_All my faces are alibis_

_And me, I'm half the man I wanted to be _

* * *

><p>He was alone for the first time in years. Entirely alone. His livelihood had been ripped from beneath his feet, and the whole world knew it. His face was on the front of the tabloids, and in the news. This wouldn't have been an unwelcome sight of it had not been for the circumstances.<p>

He realized that he would have to start again. He would need to rebuild his life, one cracked up brick at a time.

How though? How was he supposed to forget about everything that he had done for and with the band? How could _she _just forget.

Luckily for him, this strange new fame brought him more attention by the opposite sex. He liked to think that they flocked to him in droves, though it was never more than three at a time, and his general lifestyle could be continued. That was the best plan, he decided. he should go back to being the man he was before he had even met the psychotic bitch.

Psychotic bitch is how he'd categorized Sango in his mind. He knew that it was childish and unfair, but it kept him angry, and if the anger dissolved he didn't really want to find out what was underneath it. Stay angry, and stay drunk. That was his solution.

He frequented the bars, clubs, taverns, and pubs in search of something to fill his mass amounts of time. Fill it he did, with fame-craving women; often more than one at a time. He could barely see in his mind where one stopped and the other began. Still, it was less full-filling than an orgy had ever been to him before. Realizing this, the booze became his go to problem-solver. At times he would even be kicked out, and have a taxi called to bring his to the apartment he had managed to rent.

This behavior did nothing to lessen the bad press that he received. There were people waiting in places that he wouldn't expect, to try an get an exclusive with him. He said nothing when hung over, but when drunk he was known to ream the annoying snoops out, causing them to come up with their own stories, which were often more insulting.

All in all, there seemed to be very little going for Miroku, now that he was on his own.

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling?" Kagome asked when Sango had finished gulping down her morning smoothie. Sango smiled in a distracted way as she cleaned the leftover fruit off of the counter. When the mangoes, papaya, and pineapple were all safely in the fridge, she turned to her dear friend.<p>

"I'm feeling like I want to do a show," She replied. She was serious, of course, and Kagome could tell. "Nothing big, and maybe even free. Right now, I just need the feeling that only the crowd can give me. Besides, we need to combat all of that bad press."

"None of the bad is shining on you though," Kagome mused. "The magazines are making you look like a saint in comparison to how they are portraying Miroku." Sango frowned. It was true. The tabloids were being brutal.

"That is unfortunate," she nodded, playing with a thread on her sweater sleeve. The girls each took seats at the dining room table. "I regret what I did. I mean, it's not like he wouldn't gotten any worse from someone else, but once my head cleared, I realized that my panic and hormones got the best of me. Yes, we had an agreement, and he fucked up, but I overreacted."

"I wouldn't say over reacted per say," Kagome replied. "As you said, he probably would have received worse from anyone else but you. I'm just saying that I can tell that you regret firing him."

"I regret kicking him out in general." Sango was worried, and it showed. You can't care about someone and not worry when you feel you've done something wrong to them. Especially when things turn out like this. "I hear that he's not doing so well.

"He really isn't," Kagome shook her head. "I was thinking of tracking him down and having a word with him."

"I'll come too," Sango offered, but Kagome shook her head.

"No, Sango. He's constantly drinking and that isn't a good atmosphere for the baby. I\ll talk to him, and try to straighten him out. maybe I'll even invite him to this show that you want to plan. But, Sango, you'll have to do something for me."

"What is that?"

"Please, just consider telling Miroku about the baby. He has the right to know."

"Well see how it goes I guess."

* * *

><p>Kagome had a tough time tracking Miroku's actions. Her star status helped significantly, as it made others keen to want to help her out. She offered smiles. and autographs to the helpful many.<p>

Their collective directions took her to a sleazy looking place off of Main street, called the Manwin. It was advertising karaoke and Kagome cringed at the yowling behind the door.

Inside much of the clientele were older men, and they leered at her. It made her shudder. As she scanned the crowd, she tuned out the music in the background. Finally, her eyes reached Miroku, who was surrounded by women. She walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. His head lolled up to look at her, and she saw a few things in his face. The obvious intoxication; underneath was anger , frustration and loneliness.

She let the image of her face, and apparently her cleavage sink into his brain, and before he could open his mouth, she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"We need to talk. Now." To his credit, he stood as soon as he comprehended her words. He disentangled himself from his harem and, with a wobble in his walk, he followed her outside.

She would have rather had this conversation inside. Main street wasn't exactly the safest area in Winnipeg, but she couldn't even hear herself think when in the building, so it would have to do. She decided to keep it short and make it quick.

"You look miserable. Have you thought about talking to Sango?" He stared unintelligibly for a moment, then his face darkened.

"WHy would I? She... she kicked me out. She doesn't want to talk."

"Yes she does. She has something important to say."

"Well, I don't wanna talk to that bitch."

"You don't mean that." Kagome sighed. "What happened to you? I remember this guy, but I could have sworn that he'd grown up." She paused for two whole minutes before saying, "when you change your mind, you know where to find her." She patted him on the shoulder, and then walked away.

* * *

><p>The next morning was not kind to Miroku. His head ached, and he was sore in spots he hadn't known he had. Possibly the worst part, though, was the fact that he remembered everything.<p>

He looked around the plain little apartment, and everything felt soiled. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed to the shower. he turned the temperature on to an almost scalding temperature, and stepped in, groaning as the heat touched his skin, turning it red in moments.

_Who was he? _Miroku could no longer recognize himself. Some woman offered him something, and at some point he had started not to say no. It lost him any fragment of respect that he had still had for himself, and the most stable relationship he had ever had in his life. It made him sick, and crazy. As each day passed he began to feel more and more worthless. It was like he was made of masks, and could form any one of them at will.

He no longer had direction. Everything was foiled by one stupid move by a woman who meant nothing to him. But he couldn't blame her. Not so deep down, he knew that his stupid mistakes one after the other were truly the cause.

He rubbed his eyes, and lathered his body wash all over his body as he thought, '_if child me appeared right now, he would kick my ass for turning out like this._'

All those faces and still only half the man he wanted to be.


	5. Victims of Fate

**Author's Note: **I was recently asked if I would be continuing this story, and that prompted me to read it again. I find that I really enjoy it. I hope you do as well.

Song: Protect Me From What I Want- Placebo.

_Maybe we're victims of fate  
>Remember when we'd celebrate<br>We'd drink and get high until late  
>And now we're all alone<em>

_Wedding bells ain't gonna chime_  
><em>With both of us guilty of crime<em>  
><em>And both of us sentenced to time<em>  
><em>And now we're all alone<em>

_Protect me from what I want..._  
><em>Protect me protect me<em>  
><em>Protect me from what I want...<em>  
><em>Protect me protect me<em>

**Updated: **December 10, 2013

* * *

><p>The plans for a concert, did indeed go into motion. To Sango's annoyance, the others hadn't let her do much of the work, aside from making telephone calls. That is, until she threatened to cut the strings on the guitars. They knew that the suggestion eat wasn't likely to become a reality, but also knew that Sango never threw words around like that. They still wouldn't allow her any heavy lifting, but she didn't mind, as she never really cared for it anyways.<p>

It was a simple venue, just an outdoor park stage, but it was scenic. There were plenty of trees, just like anywhere else you would look in Winnipeg. Sango admired the leaves as they swayed to and fro in the slight breeze. It had a calming effect, and she smiled.

Today would be a good day, she thought. Something told her that it was true.

"I suppose I should practice," she murmured, and heaved herself off of the edge of the stage, and walked over to one of the Redwoods nearby. Leaning against the rough bark, she began to practice the new song that she had recently wrote.

* * *

><p>Drunk by six a clock was a new low, even for Miroku.<p>

When he had turned on the television, the first thing that had appeared on the screen was news that there was to be a concert in Assiniboine park. A picture of Sango, Kagome, InuYasha and Koga appeared in the corner of the screen. It was an image he remembered the taking of.

He spent the next six hours drinking, and looking through a photo album. It was filled with pictures from old concerts and adventures. A picture had fallen out of a later page and slipped to the floor. He reached out and picked it up. It was from a beach trip. InuYasha had taken it. Koga was in the back wearing yellow trunks, and gazing longingly at the green-suited Kagome who was smiling happily towards the camera and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Meanwhile, Sango was facing away and smiling over her shoulder, having just tipped a bucket of water over his head. The look on his face in the past was shocked. That was just one of many pictures he had of them celebrating just being together.

Suddenly he stood. He had to go to the concert. It was imperative that he see them. His friends. The only people who had truly been close to him in many years.

He called a taxi and waited. He could have taken one bus from the hotel, but he was in no condition to think of it. Besides, he had enough money for a taxi, why not ride in comfort?

He was past the point of trying to hide his intoxication for the most part, but he did attempt to be rather sleuth about his entrance to the park. He wouldn't want to be arrested.

The area around the stage was packed with people. It wasn't hard to not be noticed as he weaved his way through the bodies. The stage was set up, as many stages before, but the only being on it was the man adjusting the microphones.

Miroku eyed the crowd, looking for those oh-so familiar faces that he had come to see, but he couldn't spot them. It irked him to his depths.

It took a good half an hour before a familiar voice spoke, "welcome everyone. We're sorry to have kept you waiting!" Miroku looked up once again. Sango was wearing a knee-length skirt, boots that reached the hem, and a long-sleeved fuscia layered blouse. Next to her, Kagome stood, looking like she had the last time, but in a leopard print tank and denim short shorts. Koga had his hair in his usual ponytail. His t-shirt was less-than artistically ripped, just like his faded jeans. InuYasha wore tight leather pants, which was unlike him, and a white tunic; his hair loose and long behind him.

With no more speaking, they began to play. It was an authentic and nostalgic sound, which made Miroku feel and think things which he'd rather not.

"_I have found you bathed in moonlight… Surrounded by your own beauty… Singing of a joy that I want to share..!" _Sango sang the lyrics to an obviously new song.

He gaped up at the stage. There it was: the thing he had been missing. That unseen thing that happened whenever she opened her mouth. That feeling which she gave so freely through her words when she sang.

What was it? Was this the love that people spoke of?

Then, their eyes met. His chest ached as he registered the look of shock on her face, and quirked an eyebrow at her just before dipping his head and making his way back through the masses.

* * *

><p>Sango stood in front of a door. She had been debating for a good ten minutes whether or not to knock. The problem was that neither side was winning.<p>

"Listen, whoever you are," a grumpy voice came from the other side of the door, "I heard you walk up. Judging by the heel-clicking as you approached, you're a woman. Unfortunately, I am not quite feeling like company right now, so you leaving would be in everybody's best interest."

Sango bit her lip and paused. It was then or never.

"Aren't old friends always welcome?" She had to raise her voice enough for it to travel through the wood. There was no response, but she could hear rustling, and the moving of furniture. Then the door opened. "Hello Miroku. I think we need to talk." He stepped back and pulled the apartment door open wide enough for her to walk through.

"This is a surprise." His voice was quiet and forcefully monotone.

She nodded and stepped past him, "yes, I guess it is. Seeing you the other day made me think of the last time we met."

"You mean when you kicked me out?" There was a touch of bitterness, but mostly just sadness. Still, Sango flinched.

"We had an agreement. You broke that agreement. I may have been acting under strong emotions at the time, and I do regret that, but you must be able to see your fault in all of this?" He didn't reply and she sighed, sitting down on the couch. She looked over to see the stubborn, but sort-of lost look on his face. Underneath that she could see that he wanted to reach out, maybe to make sure that she was real. If he had, she knew she would have fallen into his arms automatically. She wanted to. "I'm not here to state blame though. I have something to tell you."

"What could you have to tell me now? That you're headed out on a tour?" He was being childish, and that made what she had to say much more difficult for her. She took a deep breath and let it out in a big sigh.

"The reason for my over-emotional response to your indiscretion was that I am pregnant, and I had just found out."


	6. Stripped and Polished

**Song:** Your Call by Secondhand Seranade

_Stripped and polished, I am new, I am fresh_  
><em>I am feeling so ambitious, you and me, flesh to flesh<em>  
><em>Cause every breath that you will take<em>  
><em>When you are sitting next to me<em>  
><em>Will bring life into my deepest hopes, What's your fantasy?<em>

_And I'm tired of being all alone, and this solitary moment makes me want to come back home_  
><em>(I know everything you wanted isn't anything you have)<em>

_Cause I was born to tell you I love you_  
><em>And I am torn to do what I have to, to make you mine<em>  
><em>Stay with me tonight<em>

* * *

><p>Miroku was sure he'd heard right, but wanted what Sango had just said to be a lie. Then a moment later he didn't, and his eyes slid from her face to her loose-fitting blouse. She made no move, and spoke no words, awaiting a response.<p>

"A baby?" He wondered aloud, his head involuntarily tipping to one side. She nodded gently. This was all too real, but it also seemed too different to be reality. "You're having a baby?"

"Yes," she breathed, "your baby." She looked around for a moment before meeting his eyes once again. She looked as if she was judging every word very carefully. "I should have told you sooner, but I was unsure of how you would react. Normally I couldn't care less, but this time it just seemed different."

It was Miroku's turn to nod this time. He began to pace, back and forth, down the hallway beside her. When he had heard her voice, this was not how he had expected things. He had hoped that she was coming to ask him back, or had thought that, maybe, she might be angry with him for showing up at the concert. This had been so far from his mind, but now that it was in, it was stuck.

A baby. A chubby-cheeked little poop-maker, with it's mothers lungs of steel. Super-baby. With the ability to wake everyone in the house in two seconds flat, with long and loud bawling. A child with his eyes, and her pretty mouth; his hair, and the smile she had that spread across her face, and made others want to smile along.

This was unexpected. Weren't they usually, though? How often did you really hear of a planned child? He definitely wasn't, as his father had made all-too clear when he had been growing up. Planning this type of thing seemed to make sense, but wasn't usually the case, so why not?

He would be a terrible father, that was why. Drinking, partying, and staying up all night were on the top of the list of his technical skills, while common things such as patience, and reliability were further down. Still, Sango would make an excellent mother. She was understanding, accepting, and warm in a way that no-one he had ever met was. If he tried hard enough, he could probably learn a thing or two from her. Hadn't he already?

"I don't expect you to take responsibility, or anything," Sango spoke, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Really, it was hard enough to come down here. I just thought when I saw you today that you may want to know. I would have felt terrible if I hadn't at least talked to you about it once." Miroku stopped pacing and turned to her. She was sincere, and honest, smiling in that way she did when she was letting someone off the hook. The expression made his stomach sink, while the words made the remains of his anger fade.

"I want to take responsibility." The words were out before he had thought them through, and though the scared him, after pondering them a moment, he felt no regret. Sango looked utterly shocked, and it made his chest ache. Had he really made himself out to be such a dick? Yes, he had to admit that he had. For months he had been acting like a child whose favorite toy had been taken away, when the reality was, he had broken it.

"I don't-" Sango started to shake her head, but Miroku shortened the distance between them in two strides, finally giving in and pulling her close. She made a slightly strangled noise, in the back of her throat, and tensed up. Miroku waited for a minute before pulling back to look at her face.

"Oh shit, Sango," he stared, "I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright," Sango wiped the tears that had sprung from her eyes, "it's the goddamn hormones. I'm not myself sometimes."

Miroku shook his head, willing the remaining fuzz of hangover to leave, and slid one hand to cup her chin. Her wet eyes met his , wavering as he had never seen before.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked quietly, leaning in an inch closer, not taking his eyes from hers. She bit her lip.

"I don't know if that is a good idea," her voice was almost a whisper. "We wouldn't want to do anything rash."

"When I'm with you, I can't help it," he sighed, letting her go, and running his hands through his own hair. "You make me crazy." He sat down, and took a long breath. "But, when I'm with you, you make me a better man. You give me ambitions, and hope. It's not something I am accustomed to, and I took it for granted." He paused again, staring at her intensely. "You know the saying- ' you don't know what you have until it's gone?' This is the best example of my life. My default response was anger, and I apologize for that. I don't expect you to forget what I did, because I won't, but I would very much appreciate if you would find it in your heart to try and forgive me."

The room went very silent for what felt like a very long time. Sango and Miroku stared at each other, both unwilling to look away. Eventually, there was the moment, when Miroku saw her eyes soften, and he sighed in relief. He felt lighter than he had in a long time. What he was not expecting was for Sango to walk over, lean in, and cup his chin in her hands. He stared questioningly up into her smiling face.

"I've never heard you sound like that before," she admitted. She leaned in slowly, and kissed him gently and quickly. Miroku reached and pulled her down onto his lap, enveloping her in his embrace.

"Is that a yes, then?" he whispered into her ear, feeling her shiver. "It seems like a yes." Sango nodded and Miroku smiled for the first time in a while. He moved her hair so that he had access to her soft neck, and leaned in to plant a kiss on the spot he knew would cause another reaction. She tensed, then immediately relaxed into his arms. Leaning into her ear once more, he whispered, "I missed you."


End file.
